What Needs To Be
by harrymarks
Summary: Scott had an older brother named Jerry who was killed eight years ago. Then, one day during practice, a boy calling himself Jerry McCall appears during practice. No one knows where he came from, why he is there or whats going on. Is some unknown supernatural being trying to mess with Scott and Co., or are they trying to help?
1. Chapter 1

**Beacon Hills—Eight years ago**

Twelve year old Jerry McCall dragged his eight year old brother, Scott, and Scott's best friend Stiles, towards the work site. He grinned widely.

"Look at it," he whispered. "That's where they are building the new high school athletics field."

"So?" Scott wined, fiddling with his inhaler, and grinning as Stiles pulled a face.

"So?" Jerry whispered back, sounding incredulous. "So one day, I'm going to be a team captain out there, winning all the glory. Lacrosse, more than likely. That's what the new coach, Finstock, is bringing in."

Jerry grinned at his brother with patience. He loved his little brother more than anything, he really did, but sometimes, Scott had a hard time seeing things.

Jerry's grin widened, as if lost in the thoughts of future glory of been a high school jock already. He rolled on his back, ignoring the loose stones and dirt kicked up by the construction equipment. He didn't pass any heed on Scott and Stiles as they started playing at Pokémon cards. Finally, Scott's voice brought him out of his dreams.

"Jerry, come on, we gotta got. It's getting late, and I think I saw the coach prowling round."

"What, Finstock, he won't catch us," Jerry said, giving his brother a cock sure smile and rolling onto his stomach. In the distance, he saw the coach. He glance at his brother and Stiles as they began backing away, as if realising that it was a bad idea for three kids to be on a construction site. Scott took three long drags from his inhaler, and even the normally hyperactive and energetic Stiles was subdued. 'Poor kids,' Jerry thought for a moment, before grinning. He danced forward and grabbed Scott's inhaler.

"Baby," he called, laughing.

He danced away as Scott made a lunge for the inhaler.

"Hey, give it back," Scott called out, loud enough to attract the coach's attention, who jogged over.

"What's going on here?" he barked his hair a mad frizz.

"Oh, nothing sir, just playing with my brother," Jerry smiled.

"On a building site?" the Coach asked.

"Yes sir."

"What's your name? I'm ringing your parents," Coach said.

Jerry sent Scott a death glare

"Jerry McCall. My mom is a nurse at the local hospital," Jerry mumbled,

"Right then," Coach said, taking a cell phone from his pocket and punching in a number. There was a few moments of silence, then, "Yes, could you put me through to Beacon Hills Hospital please. No, no, it's not an emergency; I just need to speak to a member of staff. No, you listen kiddo, I got three kids on a building site and I need to contact their mother."

Jerry looked at Scott and Stiles and winked. 'Later losers,' he mouthed and took off running. He ignored the Coach who was shouting behind him. He ignored the students who were beginning to leave the school, dodging one particular one he heard someone else call Derek, and made a break for the school gate. He didn't see the school bus, but he heard the brakes squeal and felt the sudden impact hit him. Suddenly, he was looking up at the sky and he was finding it hard to breath. Almost all the colour seemed to be draining from the world, turning the world shades of grey. The last bits of colour he saw was the brown of Scott's eyes, staring at him in horror, the blue of Stiles' Spiderman t-shirt and some strange red substance that was smeared on the front of a school bus. Just before his eyes fluttered closed, Jerry swore he hear a voice.

'_I'm sorry little one, but what needs to be will never happen if you remain alive. Scott needs to become the True Alpha and you would only shield him from the bite. Maybe in time, you will return, but for now, sleep.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Beacon Hills- Present Day- 1:30 am**

It never really went away, the pain of the loss. The gaping hole grew smaller, but it never healed, never went away. It became part of life- it became managable.

Every year, on the eve of the anniversary, Scott lay awake, replaying that day in his head and the snippets he had of the aftermath. He didn't see the event itself, but he remembered the aftermath. He remembered the blood, and the shocked faces of the students. He remembered Jerry's eyes flicking to him before they fluttered shut, his body mangled and twisted. He remembered grabbing Stiles hand, and the Coach picking them up, carrying them to his office. He remembered sobbing into his chest. He remembered babbled voices melding together. He remembered it was nearly dark when Stiles' dad showed up, bringing them to his house, where Mrs. Stilinski wrapped both him and stiles in a big hug.

Scott was brought out of his musings when his phone vibrated. A message icon with the name Stiles flashed on the screen. He flicked it open.

_"I get buddy. I'm going through it as well, now get some sleep or I will tell Liam and get him to go over and puppy pile you,"_ it read.

'Easier said than done,' Scott thought, as he listened to his mother sobb herself to sleep.

000

Everyone at Beacon Hills High knew the story, even if they had never meet Scott. It was an urban legend around the school, and the town. The kid who ran in front of the school bus. All day long, people sent both Scott and Stiles sympathetic looks. Liam and Kira had no idead what was going on, why the normally manic Coach Finstock spoke to both boys in a low, soothing voice. It was up to Lydia to explain what had happened, how it had caused Scott's dad to first drink, and then leave his family. How both boys had spent untold hours with a councillor. Nothing more had to be said. That evening at precise, sitting in the stands, Lydia filled in Malia as to what was going on, as Derek Hale lurked in the woods, brooding on how he had seen that young kid run straight in front of the bus and yet, couldn't stop him. The Coach was apprehensive about letting Scott and Stiles play on this day in particular- he still remembered the two eight year olds who had sobbed into his chest as he rushed them to his office. But he was assured that this was what they needed, to run off steam.

No one noticed the fog swirling under the stands, or how it consolidated into the prone figure of a child. They felt the cold though, and the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. Everyone was sure they heard a voice sigh 'It's time little one, time to come back.' No one could place the voice, it just floated on the breeze. Under the stands, the eyes of twelve year old Jerry McCall flew open as he drew a shuddering breath. His entire body ached. So much so it brought tears to his eyes as he struggled to get to his feet. All he could think about was the last image he had- blood on the front of a school bus and Scott's frightened face. Scott was in danger and he had to help him. He stagger blindly, his eyes swimming with tears of pain, until he collapsed onto grass. He frowned, and looked around after he wiped his eyes clear. An athletics field? When had this gotten here? And who were all these people looking at him? He tried to stand, but his head spun and he collapsed into a strong pair of arms. He looked up into a familiar pair of brown eyes, set in a familiar, if slightly different face.

"Scottie, your ok," Jerry said, before he passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Jerry woke up feeling very sleepy. It was the sound of raised voices that woke him up fully. Opening his eyes, he realised he was in the changing room, and the voices were right round the corner.

"...told you Stiles, it's him. I sure of it," a deep rich voice said.

"But with all the supernatural things going on, how can we be sure?" another voice asked.

"He called me Scottie, Stiles. How many people other than Jerry called me that?" the deep voice asked.

Jerry went to sit up, but someone put a hand on his shoulder. Jerry looked up into the face of a beautiful Asian girl, with a concerned look in her eyes. Behind her was another beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair and deep red lips. A boy hung in the background, looking lost and a little confused, while through a window, Jerry saw Coach Finstock on the phone. Another girl hung back in the shadows in the periphery of Jerry's vision.

"Hey, take it easy," the Asian girl said, smiling.

From around the side of the lockers, the boy who Jerry initially thought was Scott entered Jerry's field of vision. He was only partly dressed in a pair of faded jeans, and the full view of his bare torso, with it's rolling muscle, and the smooth plains of his face, made Jerry rethink his earlier assessment. Before, he had been sure it was Scott, but now he wasn't too sure. He had notched up the differences in his face to been because of his own blurred vision and bad headache. The boy looked like Scott, but the boy was too big, too muscular to be Scott, as well as been a lot older than his little brother.

Jerry squinted at the other boy that had come around the corner with the Scott lookalike. The look alike had called him Stiles, and if Jerry was truthful, he did look like the hyperactive motormouth his brother hung out with, just taller, and not as skinny looking. The Scott lookalike knelt in front of Jerry.

"How are you feeling? Not going to collapse again I hope," he said in a gentle voice, his warm brown eyes, so like Scott's, full of concern.

"I'm feeling a lot better now, thank you. Just a slight headache," Jerry admitted.

The Stiles lookalike laughed.

"Look at that, Jerry being polite," he grinned. The Scott lookalike grinned back as the girl who had been hiding in the shadows slid into view. Jerry groaned inwardly. Another hot girl. The teenage hormones that were swimming through his veins began to act up, until the girl spoke.

"He could be another threat. Can we take that chance?" she asked. For some reason, Jerry swore her fingernails looked longer than when she first walked out of the shadows.

"We aren't doing anything until we know more," the Scott lookalike said.

"We need to act," the girl said, and the blue of her eyes seemed to intensify. She stepped forward in what Jerry thought was a threatening fashion.

"Malia," the Scott lookalike growled, turning to face the girl, who backed away immediately. Jerry's breath caught in his throat. For that split second before he turned away, Jerry could have sworn his eyes were red, not brown. Scott took a defensive posture in front of Jerry.

The Scott lookalike and the girl, Malia, had a staring match that was only broken when a voice went "Is everything ok in here kids?"

Wide eyed, Jerry turned to the new voice, and almost let out a sob of relief. This face his knew and was sure off, this face he could trust. Deputy John Stilinski stood in the doorway, and his eyes went wide in shock when he saw Jerry. He looked around, making sure the Coach was still in his office, before he closed the door behind him.

"Ok," he said to the a assembled teens. "Was it another cave church thing in Mexico, or did you go to Canada this time?"

OOO

The hospital was buzzing. Word had gotten round of the reappearance of a boy missing for eight years and that he hadn't aged a day. Scott paced around outside Jerry's room as various doctors ran tests. Thanks to his enhanced hearing, he heard little details that convinced him further that it really was his brother. A mole on the left shoulder, the small birthmark just above the waistband of his pants, the scar on his chest from an operation when he was a baby to correct a faulty heart valve. Every so often, his friends would throw him worried glances, probably worried that he might get angry or break down if this turned out to be false, or that he would have trouble accepting it if it turned out to be true. The only thing he felt was happy, overjoyed in fact. His big brother (well, little brother now), was back. The brother who had taught him to tie his shoe laces, taught him to climb trees and play lacrosse. The brother who used to let him crawl into his bed when he got scared whenever there was thunder and lightening. The brother who used to prank him relentlessly, to tease him, but who would be the first to share his sweets with him and who would even share with Stiles if his asked. Scott wasn't scared it would be true, he wanted it to be true.

At the far end of the corridor, an elevator dinged, and Scott got the familiar scent of his mother. She was jogging down the hall, a frantic look in her eyes. She came to an abrupt halt in front of Scott and looked into the hospital room. Inside, Jerry saw her and a wide smile broke out on his face as he waved.

"My God, it's true," she breathed, as she wrapped an arm around Scott, tears rolling down her cheeks. "He's back." Nothing, not even the worried looks of those who thought this could be a trap, could dampen Mellisa McCalls happiness.

**Authors note: everyone enjoy? Do you want me to write more?**


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